


One of the Nights the Fire Department Was Called to Lux

by firecat



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Absinthe, Bad Jokes, Bartenders, Basilisks, Dragons, Fire, Gen, Lux (Lucifer TV), Manbun (minor Lucifer character), Phoenixes, Walk Into A Bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25521868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firecat/pseuds/firecat
Summary: Lucifer and a few of his fiery friends have a party. A bottle of absinthe is involved.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18
Collections: Froday Flash Fiction Little & Monthly Specials 2020





	One of the Nights the Fire Department Was Called to Lux

**Author's Note:**

> FFFC 100th Special Challenge  
> Table D: Fairytale/Fantasy/SciFi  
> Written for the prompts: (6) Phoenix; (7) Dragon; (8) Basilisk

A basilisk, a dragon, and a bird walk into the bar at Lux. The basilisk is heard to mutter “Are there _any_ bars in this town without mirrors?” as it puts on sunglasses. 

They seat themselves at the bar. The basilisk is a snakey-lizard critter about four feet long. It settles its back legs on the stool and its front legs on the bar. The dragon is about eight feet tall. He is covered with iridescent, bluegreen scales, and his wings are folded onto his back. The bird is somewhat larger than a chicken. She has purple-red plumage. 

A bartender appears. “What might your name be, my fine fellow?” asks the dragon. 

“You can call me Manbun,” says the bartender. He is softly handsome, with sensuous lips. “Everyone does. By the way, officially there’s no smoking in here,” he tells the dragon. 

The dragon says, “I can’t help it, I have a cold.”

“OK then. Just be careful.” Manbun gestures to a sign over the bar that’s labeled “Days without a visit from the fire department:” The number “61” is scrawled in. “We don’t want to break our streak.”

An argument flares at the other end of the bar. “YOU WEASEL!” someone shouts. 

“WHERE? WHERE?” shrieks the basilisk.

“Relax,” soothes Manbun “There's no actual weasel. It’s just a word humans use to insult each other.” He eyes the bird suspiciously. “What are you, some kind of fancy chicken? A lavender Orpington, is it?”

“I’m a _Phoenix,_ not a chicken,” she snaps. “And don’t you dare tell me you don’t serve my kind here. They already kicked me out of the bar across the road.” 

“We serve everyone except religious leaders,” Manbun assures the Phoenix. “Any priests, imams, or ministers walking into this bar walk right out again.” He lowers his voice a fraction. “Although, to be honest, we serve them too, when Lucifer’s not looking.” 

“How about rabbis?” asks the basilisk.

“We serve them. They just have to wear bunny ears. Everyone’s phone has autocorrect these days.” 

“Do you serve ghosts?” asks the dragon.

“They’re spirits, aren’t they?” says Manbun, gesturing at the bottles behind him. “So, cryptids. What’ll it be?”

Before they can reply, they spy Lucifer trotting down the stairs, carrying a bottle full of green liquid. “My friends!” he cries. “I’m here at last! Let the Fire Fairy Party commence!”

He greets the dragon with a warm kiss on its nose, and thrusts out his lower lip to the Phoenix, who nibbles it with his beak. He affectionately squeezes the basilisk’s long neck. “I would kiss you too,” says Lucifer, “but the venomous breath and all. I’m not up to date with my shots.” 

The basilisk makes the basilisk equivalent of a shrug.

Lucifer places the green bottle on the counter. “Only the finest absinthe for us,” he brags. “What drink did you come up with?” he says, turning toward the basilisk. 

“Decided to go with the classic. I need shot glasses, slotted spoons, and sugar cubes,” says the snake-lizard with the petrifying gaze and vulnerability to weasels and mirrors. 

Manbun provides the requested items.

The basilisk’s arms are too short, so Lucifer pours the green liquor into the shot glasses and dips the sugar cubes into it. He balances the sugar cubes on the spoons. “Will you do the honors?” he says to the basilisk.

The basilisk breathes on the soaked sugar cubes, lighting them on fire. Lucifer drops the cubes one by one into the shots, which burst into flame. 

“Bottoms up,” hisses the basilisk, and the four fiery beings drink down the still-flaming shots.

“Oh,” Lucifer gasps, slamming his shot glass onto the counter. “That’s the stuff.” He turns to Manbun, who’s holding a glass of water and looking concerned. “Yes, pet, when we serve flaming drinks to humans, we put them out first,” Lucifer tells him, “but the four of us all have affinity to fire and can’t be burned.”

Manbun nods sagely and keeps his pillowy lips shut.

“Alright, your turn,” says Lucifer, gesturing to the dragon. 

“This is based on a drink called the Flaming Dragon. It’s normally made with Chartreuse, but I figured you wouldn’t want monk-made spirits. So I thought we could try it with absinthe.”

“I’m in favor of encouraging monks to sin, actually,” Lucifer says, “but I also love experimenting.”

“Short glasses, and do you have Bacardi 151?” asks the dragon.

“Of course! I made sure to stash some before it was discontinued.”

Manbun provides the ingredients. The dragon mixes Bacardi and absinthe in the glasses. He breathes gently on the glasses to set the mixture on fire. 

The partiers let the drinks burn for a few seconds, then they sip, the dragon relighting the drinks as necessary.

“Lucifer likes!” the Devil says. “What shall we call it? The Flaming Green Dragon?”

“The Flaming Fairy, amongst family?” suggests Manbun.

Lucifer grabs his shirt, pulls him halfway over the bar to his mouth, and kisses him. “Mmm, yes.”

“And what about you, my ashy friend?” Lucifer says to the phoenix when they’ve finished the dragon’s drink. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“500 years,” affirms the bird. “And that means it’s a special occasion for me, so I brought an unusual ingredient. This cocktail doesn’t really have a name,” she says. “There aren’t a lot of drinks that combine absinthe and ash/smoke flavors. I’ll need mezcal and bitters and rocks glasses.”

The phoenix’s claws aren't as versatile as fingers and thumbs, so she asks Lucifer to swirl absinthe into the glasses, add bitters and mezcal to a cocktail shaker, and strain them over the rocks. The bird produces a tin from inside the copious feathers on her breast. She opens it with her foot and beak, then puts it on the bar. The tin contains rosemary sprigs and a small quantity of ashes. 

“Are those _your_ ashes?” asks Lucifer.

“Yes. Saved them after I rose last. Specially for this.”

“We are so honored,” Lucifer says reverently.

The phoenix breathes on the rosemary sprigs, setting them to smoking, and places them in the glasses. Holding the edge of the tin in her beak, she taps ashes into each drink until the tin is empty.

They all pick up their glasses. 

“Step back a little,” says the phoenix to Manbun. “I’m going to go out with a literal blaze of glory.” She hops onto the bar. 

“Here’s to Lucifer! Here’s to friends!” she cries. “Here’s to the next half millennium!”

“To Phoenix! To friends! To us!” the basilisk, dragon, and Lucifer cry.

They all drink.

The phoenix catches fire. She beats her blazing wings and swirls in the air. The entire club comes to a stop, watching the firebird with awe. She rises, rises…then just before she touches the ceiling, she vanishes in a flare of sparks.

The tin on the bar is sitting in a ring of spilled green liquid. It’s full of ashes again.

The sprinklers come on, belatedly recognizing the presence of excessive smoke and heat. 

“Dammit!” growls Manbun. “Now the fire department is going to come. We broke our streak!”

Lucifer puts his arm around the bartender. “This time, it was worth it,” he says. He picks up the tin and slips it into his jacket's inner pocket.


End file.
